Frozen Roses
by Basher Lash
Summary: While the Legion has been defeated in Outland, old evils awake on Azeroth. Ziggurats are forming above Alliance and Horde strongholds alike, as the grasp of the Lich King tightens once again. Love, war, the Scourge, and the Wrath of the Lich King.


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Writing again! This time it's a World of Warcraft based one.

Summary: While the Legion has been defeated in Outland, old evils awake on Azeroth. Ziggurats are forming above Alliance and Horde strongholds alike, as the grasp of the Lich King tightens once again, though instead of a simple skirmish, it would appear this time, he intends for a full-on invasion. Northrend awakens to reveal a land of lore, lust and trust, where true bonds are put to the test as horrible monsters and the Scourge armies mount. Will the Forsaken fall into the hands of the Scourge once again, or will they be able to resist its temptation? Can the Alliance and Horde manage to form some kind of frail bond once again, as they had previously in time, to band against the Lich King? And what history is there between Arthas, the final prince of Lordaeron, and Fauna, the would-be bride of Kael'thas? Read to find out !

So yeah. Obviously this'll get pretty damn graphic at times so watch out for that.

Also, if this kind of thing isn't what you're into at all, or if you ARE a Warcraft player and you don't like this, well then, don't read it.

Btw, I don't own anything here, I don't make any money from writing this.

Chapter One: And so it begins…

Slanted in the rough stone throne, Sylvana's stared at the various maps of Azeroth spread before her on the grotesque floor, faintly glowing eyes narrowed, long brows drawn firmly and mouth taut. Her tactical mind working tirelessly as always, thin lines were drawn over the Alliance strongholds, various invasion points, even down to the number of Forsaken that should make the venture.

' _Yes… Strike first.'_

Drawn so deeply into thought, the sudden rustle in the deathly halls caught her attention and she straightened, hand immediately flying for the long blade sheathed at the thrones side and drew it with a long metallic 'pang', rising. Whatever source of filthy light managed its coiled way into the throne room from the sewer opens above cast long shadows in the corners, easily shielding intruders.

"Come out!" Sylvana's called with her phantom voice, chilled by death itself.

The rustle came again. This time there came movement from the shadows, and a raven emerged, its topaz eyes blinking swiftly and gazing at Sylvana's there, who for the moment stood rigid, before relaxing steadily.

'_A brave bird'_she thought. Not even starving rats dared tread in Undercity, even for the moistest piece of stale meat.

The bird topped over cracks of the cobblestone ground and eyed Sylvana's, flapped its wings, and took off into the dingy air, a black flurry of feathers in its wake as it made way through one of the sewer openings to the outside world, and disappeared as peacefully as it came.

Sylvana's snorted, and dropped the blade back into its leather sheathe, pausing there when her ghastly eyes caught sight of something from their corners. One of the silky feathers had landed on the largest map, that contained both Kalimdor and the Eastern Continents. It had landed perfectly on top of Silvermoon City, and then burst into dancing tendrils of smoke, completely decimating the Elven city from the parchment. Spindly fingers stretched on its surface then and begun to take shape, curving, rigid, nameless. Sylvana's knew it well.

"Northrend." She said simply, staring in astonishment, and then looking up slowly.

**It begun then. I can feel it in my people, the urge. **

**As much as we would like to completely disengage ourselves from him, we know.**

**As long as we are a part of death, we're a part of him.**

**A year had passed. A year.**

**The Portal had opened and great villains had fallen. Heroes of Azeroth took great pride in defeating the Demon Hunter, Illidan, and his allies. But not all evil in the world had perished with him… Not since the movement of the Necropolis had he been this active, and he had planned it all too well…**

Eversong was as gorgeous as ever. The everlasting golden leaves dusted the white branches, tall warm grass and birds singing distantly. Thundering footfalls echoed through their quieted woods, as the Warhorse pounded the ground mightily, riding hard and fast toward the open gates of the city and to the arms of its Prince there greeting at the gates, his golden chiseled face smashed and leaking the acidic magic.

"_Where once was light, darkness falls,_

_Where once was love, love is no more,_

_Don't say -- Good bye_

_Don't say -- I didn't try…_

Silvermoon had been demolished.

And upon its own accord. The worn Arcane crystals there were smashed, devoid of its life-giving magical essence. Glass and pottery smashing, banning screams and cries and yells of anger, flustered Hawkstrider's with their tail feathers pulls out and wings broken hastily running away from their deranged masters, tripping over each other in panic. The local shops were burning and beautiful tree's a smoky black with ash.

_These tears we cry_

_Are falling rain_

_For all the lies_

_You told us_

_The hurt, the blame!_

The warhorse made its way through the terrible onslaught, its rider's head bowed, body shifting harshly with each pull of hands as they stormed through the crowd and the fruit thrown at him. The guards were doing their best to hold off the riot from the palace, parting to allow the warhorse through, their weapons in hesitation. They didn't want to attack, pressing their shields together tightly.

_And we will weep_

_To be so alone_

_We are lost!_

_We can never go home_

"The Prince is dead," The rider immediately announced, dismounting and pulling pieces of smashed fruit off of his armor, "We received word from the Scryers in Outland, though they might have fathered not told us. But Kael'thas is, indeed, dead."

Lor'themar stared, gaping, at the rider for a moment. Halduron came forth and snatched away the carefully rolled scroll from the rider and tore away its delicate golden seal, sending it tinkering away on the polished floor, reading it carefully.

"…And as that letter declares," the rider said slowly, carefully, recoiling from the pair of them and the gaze of Lor'themar's ever present and distasteful stare, " That… Anyone closely associated with the Prince be eliminated. Entirely."

Halduron threw the unraveled scroll to the floor and turned away from them all, a hand going to his brow, tense. The room then was filled with silence, spare for the frenzied cries that came from outside.

"There's only one," he spat.

_So in the end_

_I will be -- what I will be_

_No loyal friend_

_Was ever there for me_

_Now we say -- goodbye_

_We say -- you didn't try…_

"Lady Fauna."

_These tears you cry_

_Have come too late_

_Take back the lies_

_The hurt, the blame!_

"Lady Fauna!"

_And you will weep_

_When you face the end alone_

_You are lost!_

_You can never go home_

"Seize her," Lor'themar said quietly, and the guards swept into the room beside him.

The blood elf, perched delicately there in a tall chair, stared down at the floor, with her long fingers quietly wildling away at a rose between her hands. The thorns having long broken into her delicate porcelain skin, blood creeping down her wrists. Blond hair swept around her carefully polished armor, but her expression was devoid, unresponsive to her name being chided again and again. The final note of the song left her lips, and she allowed herself to be dragged to her feet, hands bound behind her back and twisting them in just a way that made the armor whine pathetically under the pressure.

"Don't kill her, " Lor'themar warned, looking drawn, exhausted, pained. No doubt he also felt the strong wave of betrayal that the rest of the Blood Elves presently expressed… The tremendous effort of holding it back was pulling at his strength, "We have already lost Rommath… We will see no more death in this place today."

"What then!" Halduron stormed behind Lor'themar and eyed Fauna, green eyes bubbling with spite, daring to drip out venomously, "Scryers will be breathing down our throats if we don't!"

"What does it matter?" Lor'themar tipped his head up a little. Fauna, still unresponsive, sagged her own, quiet, "Banishment."

"To where?" Halduron snapped. Demanding. Viciously angry, his temper boiling. He was nearing the same pinnacle of anger that Rommath had, just hours before, when he killed himself, "There is no damned place on Azeroth or Draenor that we can banish her too without being discovered!"

Lor'themar thought quietly, expressing changed somewhat as the idea came into mind. Though he could hardly believe he was allowing himself to ponder it. It was almost… Inhuman. But Fauna would not meet death by Blood Elf hands… he looked up, and to the guards, who stood shifting foot to foot and looking toward the heavily curtained windows as flames blazed.

" Northrend," he said softly, "We shall not kill her, but perhaps deliver her to the hands of death."

The name of the lost continent sparked something there in Fauna. The armor creaked, and she moved slightly, long tendrils of hair gaunt around her sullen features, looking up.

"Northrend…?" she whispered in disbelief.

Halduron was quiet for once, looking between Lor'themar and Fauna, and then cackled, "Northrend is certain death to Paladins.. You two there, escort our Lady to the docks."

Lor'themar watched them pass by and tried to ignore Fauna's fiery glare. The ground beneath them shook. The rioting crowd had broken through the windows on the ground floor. He shut his eyes and let his head fall back peacefully as Halduron hastily followed the guards leading Fauna out.

The crowd separated with surprising cooperation, their blazing anger enough to set the skies on fire, the heat of their voices crawling up her skin. Fauna didn't look up as they made their way through the crowd, half dragging her feet. For a moment there, the crowd seemed appeased by the fact that she was being drawn out into the public in such a way, a rippling silence following in their wake.

And then, like cannon fire, the first bruised piece of rotten fruit came pummeling through the air and struck her across the head. What followed with a torrent in suite, pummeling her while the guards shielded themselves, pulling at her armor, trying to knock her feet out from underneath her. Punching, kicking, striking whatever piece of her they could reach before she was pushed away onto a small vessel. Its sails lowered and ready to set sail.

Halduron followed the whole while. The guards fell back, standing tall on either side of him, as he smirked gaily at Fauna, pushing at the boat, pushing it away from its dock. The crew there struggled to prepare for the trip.

"Hail, would-be-Queen." Halduron smirked, and then spat into the water viciously, "What, cant bare to see what your Prince has done to you're people…? "

Fauna, bruised and battered, bits of plate reddened with fruit and blood, dented and ruffed, looked up from where she had fallen into the small ship, the crew climbing over her with ropes in hand, angling the sails, and said nothing.

So many things came to mind… But none could make it to the surface.

They only faltered.

**Kael'Thas betrayed his people by joining the Burning Legion, and thusly upon receiving the news, the glorious city rioted into ruin. **

**Their source of arcane magic had dissipated with the Prince's death.**

**And finally, after years of suffer, the Sin'dorei were pitched into madness.**

Fauna stared at the water, the gentle waves beneath them, rippling quietly against the side of the boat. Aeneas, the caption of the boat, lingered the short distance from the wheel to the stern, where she presently sat, and simply stared before them and the mounting waters.

Hours had passed. The frigid continent was within sights now. The sky above them was grey and languid… A place where the sun neither set or rose. Where night didn't dare tread. Time stood still, breathless, in this lost and encursed land.

"Never been up here," Aeneas admitted, taking out an old carved pipe and tobacco, packing it quietly with shaking fingers, "I've heard stories though. The dreaded Prince is rumored to be up here… thought Im not eager to find out. As long as he stays away from us…"

"Their not stories," Fauna said, hoarse. She straightened somewhat and cleared her throat with a wince, " Its truth."

Aeneas struck a match across the uneven wooden railing and puffed quietly at the pipe, "I see then. And you're not afraid…?"

"You cant be afraid, when you step foot here. Because, they can smell the fear… They feed off it. And then, who knows what'll happen to you… "

Aeneas shivered for a moment, either from the thought or the harsh wind that brushed past them, "Sounds dreadful."

"It is."

"And you haven't tried escaping…?"

Fauna snorted, "No point."

Aeneas eyed her, leaning back slowly against the mast, and saying nothing from then on with the pipe hanging out of the corner of his mouth, and arms crossed sternly. He moved only when they were close to making landfall, "All hands on deck! Prepare for land but don't any of you dare step foot off of this ship!"

Fauna slowly pulled herself to her feet and shivered violently. It was freezing here.. The 'land' was covered heavily in snow, with only small breaks here and there revealing the beach beneath it. The boat made an uneasy creak as it struck the frozen ocean bank, and Fauna hesitated several times before forcing herself over the end and onto land.

She let out a sudden pained breathe when the bent corner of her breastplate stabbed between her ribs, and forced herself to stand straight, wincing, glowing green eyes leaking ever so softly. Mouth tightening in concentration, Fauna focused as much as she could, summoning her steed to her. And it nearly seemed shocked at where it was, its bronzed hooves sinking into the snow, harsh breathes clouding before its black nose.

Fauna mounted the horse, and leaned forward in the saddle a little bit, one hand tightly gripping the line of spikes running up and over the horses mane while the other held the reins. Resting there for a moment.

"Lady!" Aeneas called from the ship, extending a rolled piece of old parchment. Fauna looked up with a raised brow, "A map! Its old, but Im sure it will come to some use to you here."

Fauna stared at it. Unwilling to move from where she was, she merely turned her face away and lightly nudged the horse, enticing it to begun walking, though it was clear the Warhorse was incredibly uneasy in the soft snow, waving side to side before walking straight.

"No need," She said softly, though loudly enough to be heard, "I know where I am going."

Another swift strike of her heel's and the warhorse broke into a run, snow powdering behind it.

**His forces grow stronger…**

**And I… don't know what to do.**

First chapter down, woo.

Im a bit out of practice so. Yeah. Early morning. Mmmm sleep.

The song. Its from Lord of the Rings, "Gollum's Song", music by Howard Shore and lyrics by Fran Walsh. So the song doesn't belong to me at all, I don't make any money off of it at all. Xx;;


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